Blue Moon Sunday
by Perpetual Thoughts and Meaning
Summary: It’s too much… With so much piling on Draco, including his Veela inheritance, how can he handle living a normal life? Don’t bother asking such trivial questions; he can’t! Read and review. I can’t help it if the chapters are long!
1. Default Chapter

Blue Moon Sunday

By: _Perpetual Thoughts and Meaning_

My tiny legend

9000 _The scene switcher, since this site has to be picky about what I use... -She glowers frustratingly at the administrators.-_

_Ah, on with the veela fic... -She shoots a pointed expression at the review button below.- Can you do me a favour and review? I want your opinions, because I don't believe I should write anymore…_

**I had to edit this again, because I just learnt fanfiction doesn't allow linking...**

_Please be aware that I meant the characters to seem a bit OOC in the start… Although I edited parts of this to keep the OOC outbursts to a minimum, expect there to be scenes… Perhaps I should stop entering each of my stories with someone talking… What do you think?_

****

Commencing the prologue

" Mother," Draco Malfoy began almost angrily, "I did not want to attend the Mudblood lover convention, no matter how much I need to find my Mate…"

Narcissa Malfoy shook her head, causing her chocolate coloured curls caressing her son's pale face. Many believed she was in fact blond, when her family were mostly brunettes. She loved to highlight her hair blond to please the biased crowd, but Lucius on occasion said that he favoured Narcissa's coffee brown curls.

Narcissa was adjusting the black tuxedo on her son's shoulders, forcing him an almost mischievous smirk. Perhaps today, all her hard work would pay off, and her son could finally gain some emotion. She had already succeeded in melting the first icy barrier, now all she had to do was find the girl for him. It looked as if she needed to melt his prejudice of the Muggleborns, however… Narcissa did not mind Muggleborns, but she was wise in keeping her opinions to herself.

" You will just meet up with a few young women a not much older than you, Draco... As you know, with your Veela Inheritance coming into play, you need to find your Mate soon... Oh, and do not whisper a word of this to your Father; he would not want to know that I was helping you. As you know, he is the kind of man that does not like anyone to give help to you. I wish sometimes he would understand..."

Draco nodded curtly, choking back a bleak smile. Basically, he looked as if he was attending a wedding, with his boyishly short platinum hair framing his pale pointy face, his light silver eyes reflecting his very first emotion: bemusement. He did not exactly favour the black slacks and the 'manly' tuxedo his mum had chosen him. Overall, he felt comparable to a spruced-up penguin.

How ironic was it, to be half Veela and the other half a pure wizard, when he had assumed that he indeed was only of wizard heritage? He had reacted well and he had only vomited three times. He did not have any ideas on the subject of how he would know who his Mate was, or anything about Veelas at all. Damn, he knew he should have bought that Veelas for Dummies book!

What did she say about him meeting girls? Sure, he was aware of all her plans, for him and her were close friends, but what if these girls were not of proper heritage. Also, most of them would probably loathe him, because his appearance would not meet their expectations at all!

His skin was perfect and he never had to worry about pimples, but that was only due to his veela half. His wizard half affected him in no way at all, though he knew people called him narrow-minded behind his back. He was not anywhere near special, but he possessed a brilliant mind that challenged even the Mudblood Granger's intelligence. He knew how to lie, but he had not necessarily gained a backbone yet.

" Mother, is it too late to avert my decision?" he meet his mother's dark brown eyes by wandering his own light silver orbs around the mirror.

" Yes, but," she continued before Draco could protest, "I expect good things will come from this. In case you are wondering, (and I think you are,) these girls are of pure heritage. Will you try harder now than you were planning, Draco?"

" Yes, mother," the blond teen replied icily.

Narcissa and Draco shared a similar expression of triumph. Draco had his pureblooded ladies and she would attempt to break down the second barrier for that lucky Mate of his.

  
**9000**

Do not trip, now, Draco…

Draco mentally cursed himself as his foot nearly closed on his mother's long green dress robes, clenching his fists repeatedly, trying to somehow evaporate the forming sweat.

Smile at the pretty brunettes…

Oh, shut up, the pureblooded side of Draco stated.

Draco forced a thin smirk, which he hoped wasn't that appealing swallowing the hot vomit that claimed his equally thermal throat. These women meant nothing to him, but he noticed that every one was a brunette, and all had their thieving eyes set upon him. Draco pushed away the questioning voice that squeaked, _why wouldn't they stop their staring? It makes me uncomfortable, as if I have something wrong with my garments-- DOES IT EVEN MATTER IF THEY WERE PROBABLY MADE BY MUGGLE HANDS?! WHAT DO YOU CARE, ANYWAY?!!_

Draco grinded his teeth together, disgusted at the fact his clothes had been touched by someone beneath him. He felt his stomach quench and he knew that he would choke on his own vomit if he did not leave soon. The thought of his mother purposely presenting him to a batch of new girls every week just became clear in his mind.

He was relying on his mother! No Malfoy should ever do such a childish thing. It was as if he were a toddler again, begging his mother to aid him in his pre-wizarding schoolwork! No, he needed to find this girl on his own, not lean on his mother as if he could not look himself…

" Mother, may I be excused?" he whispered lowly, carefully masking his face to not reveal his disgust.

Narcissa's face revealed her momentary shock before lightening up. " You found her already, then?"

Draco did not possess enough brain cells to hide the vague expression he shot back his mother, which was companioned by the mere arch of a pale eyebrow. " May I be excused?" he repeated frostily, deciding that this would be the only way he would escape the room.

" Yes, go on… I understand that I have been pressuring you a bit," she replied, and then continued in a higher voice. "Girls, it seems as if none of you are candidates. Inform every batch after you to not attend either."

Draco remained silent as the new information sunk in his skull. He felt more connected with his mother than ever before. It was too bad she did not understand his pride valued more to him than his heritage.

Yes, that was it. He would search at school for this girl. It was not as if he _had _to, but he felt as if his future self would thank him later.

TBC...

Unlock the dedications and u2/3...

Jamie is grateful _for you reading her work, since she has just abruptly matured and is now 13..._

Veelas are very deceitful, in which you will figure and decipher very shortly, I can assure you…

Mudblood may just be a pet name from now until December. ;

I have a block on all my other stories... Forgive me! Also, how do you love my little structure? I think I'll switch back later...

337 u2/3 /0 4l!

I'm not dead... Well, not yet, anyway...

I started this story back in August and I felt the insane urge to edit it… I don't know why, but I just wanted to prove that I hadn't given up on writing, because it's impossible now. I'm busy editing, but expect the next chapter to be more than 4,000 words. I'm also rewriting chapter two and three, due to some suggestions on a site I posted the original version on… Why don't you look for it? It's at harrypotterfanfiction Just search for the penname DoomReaper and click the story titled 'Does Your Blood Boil?' Yes, I made the story a question back there, but I'm too lazy to change it all now, which is why I'm turning it over to you guys before I finally get off my arse and change it again…

Oh, and Jamie must remind you that she does not own these characters, and the simple fact that she does not have a brain extent to comprehend Death Eater Purebloods/Veela children such as Draco Malfoy… She also does not own the dark haired Hermione Granger.

Does your hair colour darken with age? Well, Hermione and I share that attribute… GO BAD GUYS AND GOODIES!!

Also, can you review all my chapters up? I'm still planning out the second chapter, but I want your opinions on this so I can have some encouragement that I'm doing the right format...

What I know about Veelas: _they crave sexual things from their Mate, such as smell, taste, etc… They want their Mate more than anything else and are extremely possessive. They have strong senses; if their Mate is hurt, you can be positive that the veela will rush to her/his side and do whatever they can to help. If the veela catches another guy trying to flirt with their Mate, then they go into protective mode, screeching and will surely kill the person. However, if the veela sees that his Mate feels the same way about the person or appears that way he will be succumbed in grief and sadness. That's everything that I know, but I'm convinced that there is much more I need to learn._

Okay, I might be wrong...

PS… This is to my _dear _DeskJet 632C: _I thought I burned you out five years ago! What the hell are you still doing on my desk, fucking up my assignments like no tomorrow? How DARE you break down on me when I've FINALLY downloaded WordPerfect and bought a new writing pad, you ruddy miniscule-- don't light up green that way and stop beeping, you piece of shit… Yes, I know I didn't need the Okage cheats, but could you give me a break?! I DIDN'T KNOW HOW TO C&P BACK THEN! Also, if you are this old, then shouldn't you at least stop buggering me? Oh, I'm not the least sorry for the wire mix-ups OR the orange juice, because I was half awake at the time, because I HAD TO FIND THE SITE THAT HAD THE CODES ALL OVER AGAIN, YOU AGGRAVATING, RUDDY, IRRATIONAL, ARSENICAL-- Great, thank you, bitch… You made my brain blow… Wasn't I kind to you when I was eight at all? That was five years ago, if I recall, and you are a cheap arse 25 pound my type of money piece of shit, and next time, I'm gonna cake mud all over your hard drive! I hate you AND your bastard child, Lexmark Z23._

Where the name came from: _in English, we were going over phrases, and "Once in a blue moon" popped into my mind when I was wondering what to name this story. Let me know right now if the title is becoming of the story, because I don't want to know when I'm halfway through it._


	2. Chapter one: Tart

I AM EDITING, I'M EDITING! YOU HAD BETTER LIKE IT, TOO!

Blue Moon Sunday

By: _Perpetual Thoughts and Meaning_

Keyword/crack/disrupt

9000 _Scene switch_

Decipher BMS's primary interval input…

Ch 1_: Tart_

He was gazing into a deep pool of a black nothingness, an icy hand clenching his throat, a pressure shoving him to a helpless position. He trained his ears to listen to feminine shaky breaths, unable to recognise anything around him.

" Die Malfoy," from above her voice murmured.

Abruptly, the world regained colour, as if he had been released from a prison cell, and he could barely hear his fading shallow breaths as the girl pressed her razor-sharp dagger into his neck.

Draco found his throat choking, his gaze set upon the lush green grass, his left hand completely numb, barely realising his right hand was encircled around the girl's waist.

" Explain…"

His voice was one of an indignant beast as he wrenched her left hand from his neck, her grip surprisingly weak.

" You…tried to bloody rape me, why don't you explain?" She released the dagger, rolling off Draco with a flourish, and he caught the scent of lemons throughout the girl's frizzy mane.

Yes, explain…

" Rape…" He repeated unthinkingly, his mind a bare void.

His cheek stung, his gaze jerking to the teenager, his pale eyes widening in apprehension and disbelief. His left hand was tangled throughout the girl's black unkempt curls, his right hand wrenched around her wrist, preventing her from slapping him again.

" Stop!" she screeched, her black eyes narrowing icily as Draco's right hand tightened around her wrist. Draco gazed steadily up at the teenager, managing a blank expression.

" I think I know who you are," he grinded out, his teeth clenched tightly.

She did not meet his intense glare, but her face immediately grew ashen. " Burn in Hell," she whispered icily.

Sun, sun, yes, the sun…

His mind was foggy, but the fact that he had dreamt the girl didn't soothe his conscience. Terrific, now the bother would be badgering him for hours!

" Thank you, whomever created the sun," Draco heard himself mutter between his pillows. Since he was a light sleeper, Draco had always learnt to sleep with his head surrounded by a fortress of pillows. Fluffy pillows…

" Don't drift off," Draco muttered, splitting the pillowed hut from his face to force himself awake.

One of those weird dream sequences…?

" Draco, are you ready? I'm beginning to feel worried!"

" Freezing cauldrons, I have the sudden urge to slap myself," a girl's voice muttered from a darkened corner of his bedroom.

" Pansy, you wandered into the wrong room. My brother's room is on the fifth floor, the sixteenth on the right," Draco snapped, rubbing his pulsing temples to relieve an enormous migraine.

" Oh… Sorry. There are so many floors here! Which one was I drifting in, by the way?" she did not bother to hide the disappointment and anger, as Draco had already seen her sulking before.

" 2nd. Bugger off, I have to dress," he drawled coolly, currently running his pale left hand through his pale tousled locks, trying to detangle the surprisingly messy mass.

" Draco?"

His blank gaze shifted to his mother, his mind hazy and vague. He needed some more rest; also, that girl was calling for him...

Pansy barely had time to slip from his glare before his mother was shaking him, even as he vaguely comprehended her words.

9000

" Wake up!"

Draco furrowed his brows, his eyes trained on a random blank wall, frowning deeply in thought.

He was still in his room.

" This is a dream, isn't it?"

She chuckled softly, shaking her head in reply; a flurry of dark bushy curls flying with the action.

" It's your psyche telling you the oddest things," she replied coolly as he shifted himself to a sitting position.

" Just who the hell do you think you are?" Draco spat as the girl traced the silver serpent pattern across his pillow.

" Your Mate."

Draco surprisingly felt… nothing. Nothing that he would have expected, that was. He was not angry, upset, or even displeased. He was merely puzzled.

" Oh, is that the truth? What is your name? What is your identity? Are you Pure, or are you Filth?"

He needed to know, even if this was a dream.

" You're hoping to scare me off." She chuckled at the thought, as if it was somehow ludicrous.

" Are you filthy?" he repeated sternly as she gazed off into space, her dark eyes expressionless.

" I'm of Muggle blood, yet I'm better at you in every subject at our school, our sanctuary, our Hogwarts…"

His ears were ringing, an unknown sound mocking his dazed brain... Well, Pansy had left the room...

" Oh, good, you're conscious…"

" Mother, I will slap you," he muttered angrily.

" You were already dreaming of her." She smiled approvingly, obviously unknowing of the girl in his dreams.

" Mother, will you tell father that I can't go through with the Death Eater training?"

The look on her face surprised him, because he thought she would be shocked, or just be appalled. His mother was practically beaming at him.

" Sure," she replied. "Just be ready for school. You only have one more year left to go." She suddenly grew sober. " You might want to reconsider your decision, your father wouldn't be pleased, even if you had to cancel your marking... Just be wary of your father, Draco. Even though he is never here, he's always knowing of your very move."

Draco nodded mutely, his throat tight.

He had just realised-- **Hermione fuckin' Granger **was his one and only Mate.

9000

The Malfoy household never seemed to be enormous enough for Draco, because he dreamt often of living somewhere other than the mammoth Mansion, but his dreams were becoming gradually realistic. His dreams were colourful and conducted an absurdly **believable** tale, which vexed the shit out of him when truth came into play, when he woke up…

In his dream, something was more conspicuous and increasingly different. It had begun with him just staring idly into space, in an unknown room, a girl's soft sobs being the only thing recognisable to him. These sorts of dreams were always bloody in the end, which left him tense and his stomach in knots. In these dreams, however, his hands were never stained with blood.

He wanted to help these girls…

He could **see **the girl this time. He could see her frizzy dark hair shake with each shudder and he could smell her salty tears from the other side of the room. He watched as she gradually raised her bushy head, her dark eyes a bright red, light green snot tumbling down her pale freckled face.

" Malfoy?" Her voice was soft and cracked, not musical, yet she fascinated him profoundly.

" Girl…"

And abruptly, he would come to reality...

" Granger!"

He had no Seers in his family, but his mother had often told him that her great grandfather had a few visions that involved predictions that were often true and affected their lineage destructively…

This was terrific… His dreams were teaching him how to care-- the girls, they appeared so helpless, Lord help them-- and he did not like it. Malfoys weren't supposed to feel anything, especially sympathy… At times, he cursed his ancestry.

" Draco, school!"

Maybe he was loosing his very few remaining brain cells, because he could not figure out or even think clearly without seeing Granger's face. He wanted to fucking kill the girl for being his Mate.

" I'm getting ready!" Draco bellowed in response, remaining sluggish in bed. Why in the hell wasn't he a morning person like his mother? That would make this damnable life much more stress-free…

" Let us sing the Awakening Song, Draco," he muttered lightly to himself. "Do you know how it starts?"

" Yeah, I suppose," he replied sleepily.

" Morning, morning, arise, rub those weary eyes, and make sure to use your wand to erase the black lines… Be joyful, don't show it, be sorrowful; be sure not to regret it…" Each day, this song would be changed, but as he wasn't sobered up yet, he used the same theme he used the day before.

This was Draco's basic morning… Incoherent mumbles, the _Awakening Song_, the usual talk with his conscience aloud… His life was unpretentious, if you were an outsider.

" And I never will have an envied life," Draco muttered, ripping the black covers from himself, instantly regretting doing so, because he was shivering his arse off. Oh, did the authoress mention Draco sleeps nude? Oo;;

" Sh-shit, clothes, clothes," he muttered sleepily.

9000

Pansy had joined Draco to stroll toward the bloody old bridge, not literally, mind you… her incredible foolishness annoying him, as he had an intolerance for such thoughtlessness.

Pansy was his younger brother's fiancé to put it simply enough. His brother was unknown to him; he would not have even known he existed if Pansy had not been blabbering on about him. His younger brother supposedly went to a school in France with _his _father, not Draco's. Thus, the boy was only his half-brother, being conceived out of rape. Ha, take that Chris... An: Chris is his younger brother's name. --;;

" Is that train bright, or is it just me?"

Draco eyed his ex girlfriend Pansy Parkinson sceptically. "It's most unquestionably the train."

" I appreciate your honesty," she spat wryly, lugging her bags over one shoulder as they passed an immense group of Muggleborns, which Draco all sent cold glares.

" I think I have the initial stages of pink eye," Draco complained as he relentlessly rubbed his eyes, maintaining a steady pace behind Pansy.

" It may just be the sleep you've been disregarding," she replied sweetly, which Draco sensed was all fake and surgery-coated shit.

" I can assure you Parkinson, that I had an enormous amount of sleep, three hours, to say the least," he replied with mock anger as they boarded the train.

" Sure thing," she replied, dragging him to the Prefects compartment, literally. Draco could feel his heels digging into the floor, ignoring the chalkboard screech with the appearance of an Azkaban escapee.

" My feet are all but on fire," he whispered lowly when they reached the compartment, and he was **still **rubbing his eyes furiously.

" Great," the feminine voice that plagued his dreams deadpanned.

" Sod off, Granger… We don't genuinely need her here, right?" he gave Pansy a questioning glance.

" I suppose not," she replied with a shrug of her thick shoulders.

Granger was just as she appeared in his dreams. Her bushy curls were more unkempt than ever, giving her an almost electrified look, with the fried smoking feel. She wore her overly huge robes, which concealed everything from peeping eyes, though he distinctly noticed the light brown mud caking her black boots, and she was wearing glasses, a book setting on her lap, being the only other person in the room, if you did not count himself and Pansy.

" I don't really care much about your opinion," she replied simply, returning to her thick book.

" Bloody hell Granger, is that a 7th year Dark Arts textbook?"

Draco could not stop the question from popping out, the girl made his sanity and his vocabulary disappear without a trace.

" Don't you have some 1st years to bully, Malfoy?"

" Bugger off, Weasley," Draco drawled coolly, his frosty eyes set upon his Mate.

" Are these bitchy Slytherins buggering you, 'Mione?"

" No, actually, they're amusing me," she replied casually, grinning toothily toward her friend.

" I'm so relieved," the blond teen drawled, "that we amuse you."

" Your eyes, Malfoy… You look as if you're infected with Pink Eye," she replied through soft chuckles.

Oh, I want to be a morning person, so I can come up with a witty retort for Granger… Said with an Irish accent, mind you… _Sweet Mary Mother of Jesus, save my wretched soul, I implore you!_

Draco made a frustrated noise, sitting down across from her next to Pansy, taking the time to glare icily at the dark haired Muggleborn, which did not exactly look threatening, because of his 'eye virus.'

" Granger, why don't you get some bloody surgery? I bet you would be at least 10 more attractive if you did so," he spat, barely realising his words until he felt Pansy stiffen beside him.

Ah, shit, he cursed mentally.

Granger sat her book beside her before climbing to her feet. Her face possessed its normal pale colour, but her eyes reflected pain. " Sod off," she whispered threateningly. " Sod off Malfoy, just bugger off. Our meeting does not need such nonsense, especially from 6th years--"

" You are also of this year so," Draco interrupted her, his pale orbs narrowed, "do not speak to Pansy and me as if we are trash, because we are of pure lineage, unlike you."

Hey, as long as she was not aware of his heritage, he could go on about it as a comparison to her filth, well, until she learnt of his current position, that is.

Oh, how it hurt to watch her eyes tear... Hermione did not back down as he expected, her thin hand raised, her intentions obvious. She was about to slap him as she did in their 3rd year.

Draco huffed, shaking his pale head silently. He nudged Pansy with his elbow, hoping she would understand him. For once, she did, and they left the compartment before Hermione could lean back down.

9000

" BUUUURRRP."

Draco did not bother to blush or even react to his imbecilic friend, because at lunch, he pretended that he hardly knew the two fat tubs of lard.

Oh, I want to be a morning person…

" _So I can bloody throw retorts at everyone I meet_," he muttered.

" Huh? What's that, Draco?" Goyle asked from the pale blonde's left, since Crabbe was indulged in mammoth amounts of cheesecake.

Cheesecake for lunch… I might have to visit the house elves and lecture them on healthier food to serve… He thought absentmindedly, turning his fork between his thin fingers.

" It's about 12:00, right? You know I only speak in mumbles until about 4:01 PM," Draco replied coolly, his eyes set on his repulsive reflection, one of a pale blond with black lines under his equally unattractive silver eyes, platinum bangs falling over those hideous orbs, as he was never quite professional with hair gel in the morning hours, like everything else. He thought to himself amusedly, _I look like one of those cocaine addicts, when I never have even walked past a Muggle without throwing some random insult, though there was one time… _Draco made his lips imitate a motor, pursing them together and breathing through them closed.

" It's 12:05," Crabbe replied from his right, traces of cheesecake splattered across his plain black robes, his badge even caked with yellow fluff.

" Crabbe, you should clean yourself up… Cheesecake is not **that **good. What about something healthy, like um… Draco, help me here," Pansy trailed off, glancing pleadingly at the veela boy.

" …Leaves? Grass? I think vegetables and what the Muggles call a 'salad'…"

" Yeah, a salad! I think Draco and I should have a talk with those House Elves!" Pansy stated, puffing her chest, reminding Draco of a penguin…Well, if he could see her.

Draco cleared a spot quickly, letting his fall onto the hard table, causing some satisfactory _clinks _and shrieks. He had obviously caused some girls to spill their soup.

" When I wake up." The tablecloth muffled his voice, but Crabbe and Goyle, being used to Draco's daily habits, and merely nodded sadly.

Crabbe was hastily cleaning his badge as Draco kept silent, letting himself rest his eyes for a few sweet moments. Draco had learnt to tune out people in his 3rd year, when he had become a full-fledged insomniac.

You can be optimistic about that one thing…

" The tuning out part or the insomnia?" he muttered, ignoring the urges to rub his eyes.

You are me; what is the answer?

Draco snorted, the tablecloth tickling his robes softly. He had not laughed in a while, but talking to himself definitely was not a good sign, especially if he made himself laugh.

" Hey, Draco? What's so amusing under the table?"

Grunt, grunt, bellow, snort, and chortle.

" The parody of my life, boys," he replied to both Crabbe and Goyle slyly as he felt himself drift off.

9000

" Pansy, don't eat the rocks, they're for the fishies to poop on…"

Hermione Granger, a girl known for her strict realism and seriousness, bit back a soft chuckle as she sat down her books beside the Slytherin boy, deciding it would take a while to wake him in this state. Dumbledore had sent **her **to wake him up when the boy and her friends were the last in the Great Hall, from obviously talking too much.

She reached for her Transfiguration book and lightly poked the Slytherin with the object, determined to keep her distance, taking the time to float back her books, silently scolding herself for placing them down, when she clearly shouldn't have.

" Malfoy, oh Malfoy," she maintained a calm yet commanding voice, her wand tucked behind her left ear, her bushy curls pulled away from her plain face with a normal red scrunchie.

" Granger…"

Hermione settled her book on Draco's platinum head, smiling at the thought of him fretting over his tousled hair when he came from dreamland, waiting impatiently behind him, since she wasn't allowed to return without him, due to the Prefects' meeting.

" Yeah? Are you awake, Malfoy? We have a meeting to attend," she replied in her bitchy voice, as Ron described many times before.

" Granger," he replied unkindly, unmoving.

" Good God, he had better not be dreaming about me!" she realised her ironic choice of words before slapping herself silly; her cheeks tinted a very faint pink.

" Hermione Granger… fall… abhorrence… anguish…" He was muttering quietly, and Hermione only caught a few words.

Hermione had enough of his babble, an insane expression creeping into her face, her eyes twinkling evilly. She slowly took the transfiguration book into her petite hands, smiling sardonically, poised for attack as she bent down…

" **OWWW**!"

Draco forced his chair from the table angrily, his left hand covering his head, his right hand waving in front of him, still drowsy.

Hermione raised a dark eyebrow at the pale blond, taking in his features with a light scowl.

His platinum hair was indeed tousled, but not nearly frizzed to be considered 'Granger hair.' His robes were open to reveal wizard clothes, and she noticed that the only colour he donned was his badge and tie; even his vest was a very dark grey, which could probably be passed as black if you were a few miles away. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing perfectly pale skin, traced with no Death Eater markings of the sort, though she noticed his nails were particularly short, and looked as if he had bitten them in the fashion. Her gaze shifted to his eyes, which were the palest silver she could ever imagine, an ugly silver, which was lightly sprinkled with a darker shade of grey, but she could not detect any expression reflecting in them, which worried her a bit. His pale blond eyebrow was arched at her, though no sneer curved his thin pink lips yet.

" I decided that now was the time to wake you... What's so wrong with that?" she answered his questioning gaze pointedly, crossing her arms over herself, having already magiked the book to float behind her.

" Come on Mudblood, we have a Prefect meeting to catch," he stated with a flash of his annoyingly white teeth, grabbing her elbow and pulling her from the Great Hall with a flourish of long legs.

9000

The meeting had been fruitless and uneventful. He would have fallen asleep, but his ears were throbbing, due to that damnable Head girl's prissy voice. He knew the exact method of tuning Crabbe and Goyle's snores from his mind, yet he did not have the technique to block her high-pitched squawk. Previously, he had believed no one had a voice worse than Pansy's screech. Shit, was he **ever **wrong.

Perhaps she merely existed as his alarm…

An alarm with no sleep button, that was. Didn't she understand that insomniacs such as him needed some shut-eye? Well, she obviously was unsympathetic, or she was very oblivious.

" And I expect you all to work well with your partners and not argue," she screeched.

Fuck.

Eh, perhaps he had only succeeded in tuning out the partner instructions.

Maybe they would replace him for another boy, because the Prefects shit was the main thing that kept him up at night, if you disregarded the fact that he had a hell of a temper… Often, he wandered from his dorm at night to trash Pansy's stuff. It was simple and helped him gain a cruel sense of humour, which Blaise favoured.

First, he would sneak into her dorm as quietly as possible. Next, he would prowl through her closet/discarded garments/shit pile/make-up collection/girly shit. After collecting all that seemed very valuable, (and most of all, irreplaceable) he would wander from the Slytherin dorms all together. Then, he would make sure that no one would see him, (insomniacs have terrific hearing) and slip into a random classroom to destroy the unmentionable property…

" MR. MALFOY! GO TO YOUR PARTNER IMMEDIATELY!"

Shit, fuck her, ow! Her voice was much worse when yelling than her usual screech, but that is to be expected, right? If he had a time turner or some kind of potion, he would first have to trace down which section of the banshee universe her ancestors were, then he would--

" **MOVE!**"

" Fucking bitch, stupid Bludger, inconsiderate bitchy wench," Draco grumbled as he climbed to his feet.

Pop. You do not know who your partner is fool!

" I _knew _that," he muttered in reply.

Look around the room to see who isn't paired up!

" I think I could have figured that solution out on my own, Einstein," muttered the insomniac.

As his conscience kindly helped him on deciding, he whipped his pale grey eyes around the room, until they landed on the black-haired, buck-toothed Mudblood, who had an almost musical voice compared to the Head girl's squawk. His salvation!

Hermione raised her chocolate brown eyes to meet his much lighter orbs. She scooped up her books, which took up his seat before averting her hues from him.

" You're aware of the antagonist minds--"

Draco raised a pale hand to interrupt her. Hermione obviously didn't like to be interrupted, Draco could tell as she grinded her teeth together, but she had enough control not to scream a retort his way.

" Granger, I have no idea what an antagonist mind is," he drawled calmly. He mentally slapped himself, because he learnt that word when he was five, for Merlin's sake!

Hermione simply shrugged her shoulders, causing her frizzy curls to fly off her shoulder and down her back. " That's your problem, not mine. If you had been listening to what the Head girl explained-"

Draco scowled thoroughly at the younger teen and as his left hand was still raised, and being the lazy arse he was, he used that one to cover her mouth and his free hand to weave through his tangled hair.

" Shut it, Granger. I didn't hand you the script for my conscience. Just explain me what the bloody hell we're supposed to be doing so I can get this over with."

Hermione's chocolate brown spheres narrowed and Draco felt her mouth moving beneath his hand, which sent tremors down his spine. Damn that girl, his Mate, for making him so appallingly weak. Draco felt his pale cheeks grow, but as luck had it, his mother's side (the brunettes) caused his skin not to show as much if his father had married a blond girl. He abruptly realised that Hermione was trying to speak, possibly an explanation (probably not,) but his hand was suppressing her lecture. Once he removed his hand, Hermione leaned over her desk so her breath fanned over his face.

" The project is over English. Dumbledore wants his prefects to be verbally accurate when presenting a speech, or so that squawking Head girl shrieked," she grinded out, her voice so low that Draco had to lean in to hear. "We're writing out fifteen words and definitions every Thursday and the project has to be turned in by March 1st. We have to give him a thorough dictionary and not use the same words our partner uses. Why he gave this rule is pointless to me as broccoli is to a child with a full stomach; it's pointless." She leaned back into her chair, straightening herself, seemingly satisfied. Draco huffed a sigh and sat back up himself, averting his gaze to the ceiling. Maybe Hermione and him didn't have such diverse minds after all!

Draco glanced over at his bushy-haired Mate, "is that why you asked me the meaning of antagonist?" He sneered coldly, but his stomach still was performing back-flips. "You of all people should know--"

Hermione raised her eyes to meet Draco's ugly light grey ones, her dark brown orbs narrowing, but her tone was calm, " I knew the meaning very well, Malfoy. I thought it would be sporting to hand the ferret a shot gun so he wouldn't be defenceless."

Was she was giving me a freebee?

Basically, her little analogy was composed of this: he was the ferret and Granger, being the sporting girl she was, lent him one of her guns, which must have been the Muggle sort of wand, only it wasn't-- She basically was saying that she just aided him like his mother tried to aid him in finding a Mate. Draco Malfoy did **not **want the help of a Mudblood (sneeze,) even if the girl happened to be his Mate.

" I don't need any help from a Mudblood," he whispered hoarsely as the Head girl turned her back. He raised his eyes and watched Hermione's face heat from anger, her brown eyes lined red. " Don't bother to protest, Granger. I'm not some defenceless fool, either. I know **exactly** what I'm doing."

" You're a damn fool," she whispered in a disgusted tone. " If you don't ask for help, you'll **become **defenceless. The smart ones are the people who ask questions, not the stubborn pigheaded blond Slytherins who think so arrogantly that they will always be right, because no one is perfect. Especially you, Malfoy."

" Prefects meeting dismissed!" the Head boy called from the far left corner of the room. That's where Draco guessed he was. He didn't bother to let his eyes linger from Hermione's face, but he also didn't hit her back with one of the many retorts, which were piling in his mind rapidly. He didn't need to waste his time on her.

**9000**

Today was the day Draco adored: Saturday. On Saturdays, he could sleep peacefully, well, most Saturdays...

Draco coughed loudly his forehead burning; every time he inhaled, he sniffled. Bloody fucking hell!

" Vexing allergies," he wheezed, pushing himself to a sitting position.

Blaise sighed, eying his cousin wearily, tossing him a wet washcloth, "don't rub your eyes or your condition will merely worsen. It's too bad the Hospital Wing doesn't treat allergies..."

Draco pressed the icy washcloth to his forehead and closed his eyes tightly, " Yes, I would hate to have some **_proper _**treatment."

" I think it's your blood punishing you for something..."

" Just because I don't want my Mate to be who she is..." Draco began, but cut himself off short with a fit of throaty coughs.

" Oh, Malfoy? If you even have a _twinge_ of hatred for her, you'll develop a cold," Blaise explained loudly so that Draco could understand him.

" Shit!"

Draco sneezed with such force that knocked him off his bed and onto his back on the floor, his eyes bloodshot and his pale face contorted in murderous anger.

" Hmm?" Blaise yawned widely, clearly oblivious.

" Never mind," Draco muttered gruffly, sitting up, scratching his eyes furiously.

TBC

Well, what can I say? I am lazy, but school has already started back and I am a 7th year, that means I'm 13 so don't blame me for all of the shittiness, all right? I have enough trouble without someone flaming me and screwing up my already bad attitude, no thanks... I'm an aggravating bugger, aren't I?

Oh, and Jamie must remind you that she does not own these characters, and the simple fact that she does not have a brain extent to comprehend Death Eater Purebloods/Veela children such as Draco Malfoy… She also does not own the dark haired Hermione Granger.

Does your hair colour darken with age? Well, Hermione and I share that attribute… GO BAD GUYS AND GOODIES!****


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